As the last item was brought into auction, everyone instinctively looked at it as last eleven items were best than last one.
The moment the dark crystal box was placed on the pedestal, the energy within the hall shifted.
It was subtle at first—just a flicker of unease, like someone walking over a forgotten grave—but then it grew heavier. Thick. The air pressed down like an invisible fog, and even seasoned cultivators felt their breath catch.
The auctioneer gave a rare pause, visibly bracing himself before speaking.
"This… is not an item to be taken lightly."
He gestured, and the protective seals on the box unlocked with a chime. The lid lifted, revealing an ancient scroll suspended within a barrier of soul-forged crystal.
The parchment shimmered—not with light, but with time itself. It looked as though it had existed long before any of the guests had ever drawn breath. Its surface was inscribed with an elegant script that shimmered with primordial soul energy.
